


Song Of The Wolf

by Loeka



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ancient Elvhenan, Looking Glass Baby!AU, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:05:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7061782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loeka/pseuds/Loeka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had traveled back in time. He had been turned into an infant.</p><p>Fenris had not thought it possible, but somehow the mage had actually succeeded in making him hate magic even more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning. If you have not read Looking Glass by Feynite, this will not make sense. At all.
> 
> Also, if you haven't read that fic yet, go do so. Right now. It's hands down the best Dragon Age - Inquisition fic that exists, and makes a strong contestant for the best Dragon Age fic in general.

Fenris _burned_.

Pain made it impossible to think, fire scorching, it hurt, it _burned_ , agony searing every part of him.

Fenris could do nothing but scream.

And yet, a very small part of him whispered he knew this pain, had felt something similar before. The one experience he could never forget. The one moment time could never dull.

Fenris felt like when he had first received his brands.

Except this was somehow even _worse_.

And just like then, he could do nothing but scream. Time was meaningless, held no importance. Nothing did. Nothing but the inferno destroying his mind with that impossible, unending, _pain_.

At first, Fenris did not notice when the agony began to lessen, so slowly it was as though someone was taking buckets of water from an ocean and expected it to make a difference. Yet, eventually, it did make a difference. Eventually, Fenris realized the pain was lessening.

He still could do nothing but scream.

But slowly, so very slowly, Fenris started becoming aware of things beyond agony. He realized he wasn’t screaming anymore. Not because he had stopped doing so, but because his vocal chords had been torn raw. Now only wheezing breaths escaped him as he screamed and screamed and _screamed_.

After that, he realized the agony had started pulling back. That even though every part of him still burned - _make it stop_ it hurts _it hurts **make it stop!**_ \- it was now focused on his brands. Focused on his heart.

Fenris realized he could hear his own heartbeat. He realized it was _wrong_.

But he could not figure out why, could not focus, could only scream.

Because even though the pain had lessened, it was still an unending agony. It still burned -burning searing _blazing_ make it stop _make it stop **make it stop!**_ -

His heartbeat was wrong.

That was the final thought he had before oblivion offered sweet release.

* * *

 

When Fenris awoke, the agony was gone. And he could not stop himself from bursting out crying, relief overwhelming all else.

 _It was gone_.

So Fenris cried, overwhelmed, the numb singing that was now present a blessed gift, the smoldering of his brands not even registering as pain. Not after the inferno they had been before.

Yet suddenly, Fenris stopped crying, relief fading away. Because something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

A sniffle escaped his throat without his consent. The sniffle was soft, wheezing. It was high pitched.

Too high pitched.

Fenris opened his eyes. Immediately closed them again, wincing, sharp pain stabbing into his head, everything too bright.

He let out another sniffle. And once more, it was too high pitched.

Fenris frowned, worry and anxiety spiking sharply. Something was wrong. But what?

Why was it so hard to think?

He supposed that last was partially caused by the low, constant drumming all around him. Except...

Fenris stilled.

Except the drumming was not coming from around him.

It was coming from _inside_  of him.

Fenris was hearing his own heartbeat. And it was _wrong_.

Immediately, he tried to sit up. He failed. This time, Fenris was not worried or anxious. This time, he began to panic.

_What was wrong with him?_

He tried to move again, more fiercely this time. And accidentally smacked himself in the face.

Fenris froze.

Hesitantly, he tried to touch his own face. It took an enormous amount of effort, limbs refusing to cooperate, feeling as though heavy weights were holding them down. But Fenris would not allow his body to rule him. He had decided to touch his face, so he would.

He succeeded. And Fenris froze once more.

Smooth skin, alien in its sheer softness. Squishy cheeks, a tiny mouth, an even tinier nose.

What? What was- _where_ was he?

He did not know. He did not know, did not _remember_ -

Fenris focused on his breathing, on keeping himself under control. He would not allow his panic to rule him. He would not allow _anything_ to rule him. He had no master.

Not anymore.

With that grounding memory, Fenris felt capable of opening his eyes to a crack. He winced from the too bright light once more, even as he forced his eyes to remain open. There were nothing but bright green and blinding orange blurs in front of him, making him want to close his eyes once more. But Fenris was determined. He kept his eyes open. And slowly, the blurs started coming into focus. Eventually, he was capable of opening his eyes fully.

He stared.

There were trees in front of him. Nothing but trees in fact. Trees, with bright green trunks and blinding orange leaves. Because the leaves were glowing.

Fenris felt his expression twist in a snarl, even as -fear- rage started clouding his mind.

 _Magic_.

Again, he attempted to get up. Again, he failed. Frustrated -terrified- he looked down at himself.

He looked down at an infant. An infant, whose body was covered in softly pulsing brands.

Fenris froze once more, mind blank. He blinked. The image did not change.

Panic clawed at his mind, breath speeding up as he looked at this absolutely _impossible_ image. At the brands, _his_ brands, glowing _purple_ , lyrium pulsing in time with that too loud drumming, Fenris able to feel them, _hear_ them, clearer than ever before.

These were _his brands_. And they were _on the body of an infant!_

Fenris _choked,_ gasping for breath **_wrong_ ** everything was wrong _wrong_ **_wrong!_ **

He shut his eyes, _forcing_ himself to breathe, to ignore the drumming, the pulsing of the lyrium, the way they still smoldered, hummed, _sang_. He ignored all of it, had to, had to _think_. What was the last thing he remembered?

Pain. Pain and _agony_ and- _No_. What did he remember before that?

Fenris concentrated harder, trying to focus, a near impossible task. His thoughts felt thick, sluggish, drowned out by the pulsing drumming -screams- _song_. But he had to succeed, he _had_ to. Think, _think_. What did he remember?

He remembered...

 _The mage_.

Fenris snarled, black fury rising, bitter and ugly, so much _rage_.

So much despair.

They had failed. Failed to stop him, failed to kill him.

They had failed the world.

And yet, at the very end, the mage had _apologized_. As though he had been _forced_ to do it, as though he had no choice, as though he had _the right_ to feel _guilt!_

The mage had destroyed the world. He had killed _everything_ and _everyone_ , had ripped reality apart by the very seams. And he had been _sorry_.

Fenris sneered. But then, what else should he have expected of a mage who had the arrogance to think himself a god. A mage that was all the Tevinter Imperium had strived to be. What else should he have expected of _magic_.

But then...

The world had been destroyed - _destroyed_ , a child's toy, not living up to its _creator's_ expectations- He had seen -the _sight_ \- it happen, had seen the desolation, the mind breaking _void-_  

He, the Inquisitor, and the mage, had been the only ones left.

And Fenris... Fenris had not struck down the mage. Had not even tried. Not at the end. Not when the mage had fallen to his knees. When he had begged the Inquisitor for _forgiveness_.

Fenris had not struck him down. Because it had not mattered anymore, it would not have changed anything.

Because Lavellan had done all in her power to stop him, had sacrificed everything she had held dear. Because throughout the war, throughout the unending loss and death, Fenris had come to call her his friend. Because she had been the only one he had left.

Because she had deserved to have this final moment with the mage she still foolishly loved. No matter how much she hated him as well.

Because everything had been gone.

So why was he still alive?

Fenris _forced_ himself to focus even harder, to fully recall those final moments. The mage had begged for forgiveness - _forgiveness_ \- And then, as Lavellan had refused to give any, he had -begged- talked about... a fold?

He had talked about _time_. How time should have- how it _would_ fold. How he wished to travel back to undo all his _mistakes_. Because of course the mage’s arrogance knew no bounds, of course he truly believed he could _fix_ everything he had _destroyed_ -everything, he had destroyed _everything_ -fix all the loss and pain and _death_ -

Fenris pulled himself away from his rage with the greatest of efforts. He _had_ to focus. What had happened after that?

The mage had tried to give... _something_ to Lavellan. Something that had made his brands -scream- _sing_ , something that had scattered his every thought. Something that had made Fenris fall to his knees.

It had not gone to Lavellan.

Fenris remembered the mage’s horrified eyes, remembered light, remembered indescribable -screams- _music_.

And then Fenris  _burned_.

He shuddered violently, whimpering from the mere memory, for one single moment feeling that unending agony once more. He grit his teeth, attempting to push the memory back.

He succeeded. Not because he grit his teeth, but because he suddenly realized he did not have any.

Because he was an infant. Who had traveled back in time.

Fenris let out a bark of -hysterical- mocking laughter, the sound mutilated by this too tiny body, hatred, disgust and -sorrow, despair- _rage_ overwhelming him.

He had traveled back in time. He had been turned into an infant.

_Magic!_

Fenris had not thought it possible, but somehow the mage had actually succeeded in making him hate magic even more.

He opened his eyes, sneering as those glowing _magical_ trees filled his vision once more.

He was an infant. In a _magical_ forest.

He was alone.

Fenris closed his eyes once more, pure -fear, pain- _hate_ overwhelming all other things.

He would die here. He had survived the end of the world, and he would die in a _magical_ forest. Because he was an _infant_. Because _magic!_

No.

Fenris felt brutal clarity settle over him, opening his eyes once more, glaring at the magical trees. He would not give up. He would not simply lay here and let death claim him without a fight. He would not let _magic_ decide his fate.

Looking down at himself, he realized he was laying partly on his side. And with that knowledge, he suddenly became aware of the crushed grass beneath his cheek, the strands irritating his nose, the earth and small pebbles beneath his body. A cool sensation against the heat of his still pulsing brands. The brands that were the wrong color. The brands he had never been able to feel this clearly.

Not even when the mage had torn down the Veil.

It was so hard to think over the cacophony inside his mind, the pulsing song of the lyrium ringing in perfect harmony with the drumming of his heartbeat. The heartbeat that was _wrong_.

And underneath it all, at the edge of what was not quite his hearing...

There were screams. Endless screams.

Fenris ignored all of it. He took a deep, fortifying breath. Then, with an enormous effort, he rolled to his stomach. The movement made him wince, every part of him still tender, numbness slowly disappearing, leaving a bruising ache behind instead.

It was _nothing_ compared to the agony of before.

Taking another fortifying breath, Fenris carefully placed both his palms flat on the ground. Then he tried to push himself to his knees.

He failed.

Snarling with frustration, and snarling even louder as it came out an unintelligible gurgle, he tried again. And again. _And again_.

Finally, arms trembling, he managed to push himself up slightly.

He promptly fell down again.

Fenris burst out crying, pure hatred and so much -despair- _rage_ overwhelming him once more. Then, still crying, unable to stop, he tried again. When he failed once more, he cried harder, his body not listening to his commands to stop. Then he tried again. And again. _And again_.

He would _not_ let the mage win. No matter what.

_“Oh!”_

The sound startled him, eyes snapping to the side. And Fenris froze, panic back full force.

Floating next to him, was a glowing ball of blue light, five what could almost be called eyes looking down at him. A spirit. A _demon_.

_“Do not fear, I will not harm you.”_

Fenris could not understand the spirit, did not wish to either, wanted to _kill_ the thing, wanted to -run- _fight_ , do something  _anything_.

He managed to roll to his back. Then, once more without his consent, he burst out crying. Because this was a _demon_ , he would die at the hands of a _demon_ in a _magical_ forest because _magic!_

_“Oh no no no. Shh, it is alright, I will help, I will make it better. I will make the pain go away.”_

The demon continued its incomprehensible babbling. And then _glowing tendrils started reaching for him!_

Fenris _wailed_ , clenching his fists, trying to hit the spirit as it reached for him. But his arms were as uncooperative as everything else was, wildly swung around instead, missing their mark.

The demon touched him.

Fenris abruptly stopped crying, sheer shock at the abrupt  _sensations_ halting his every thought. Then he closed his eyes, tears immediately rising once more. But not for the same reason.

He could taste the disgusting swill from the Hanged Man, smell the stench he had never wanted to get used to. He could feel a fleeting touch across his arm, a playful bump against his shoulder. Teasing and insults and flirtation. Laughter and yelling and Wicked Grace.

Fenris started crying again, silent sobs wracking his body, the loss he had not allowed himself to feel for so long finally breaking through. Breaking him.

They were gone. _All_ of them were _gone_.

His tears fell down even faster, body shaking, drowning in memories. All the wonderful moments he had never expected to have, all the ones he had never dared hope for. All the friends he had never wished to have, but who had found him anyway.

Everyone was  _gone_.

He was barely aware of the demon speaking once more, of being lifted up. He could not even react to it, could not spare it the slightest attention. All he could do was remember and weep.

Everyone was dead.

It was a blessing when he fell unconscious once more.

* * *

 

Comfort looked down at The Infant it held. It was a very curious thing, making Comfort tingle and brighten and _feel_. It made both Waking and Dreaming dance. It _sang_.

It was in so much pain.

Comfort did not like pain. Comfort wished to soothe, wished to help. But when it had tried to do so, The Infant had grown so much worse. The memories Comfort had stirred, had turned it's hurt into a pain unending. And yet, Comfort did not know what else it could to.

Comfort felt like a complete failure.

It looked down at The Infant. The Infant, who felt like the Dreaming and Waking both. The Infant, who was so _loud_ yet so very quiet as well. The Infant, who had fallen asleep but had not gone to the Dreaming.

The Infant, who was in so much pain.

Comfort debated on what to do. It had tried to help and had failed. Badly.

Clearly it could not help The Infant on its own. Should it find other Waking-born to help The Infant? But Comfort was young, had not ventured into the Waking often. In fact, it had only come over to the Waking now, because it had been curious as to what was making the Dreaming dance.

And while Comfort frequently encountered Waking-born during its wanderings, it did not truly know any. Not well enough to know whether they could help The Infant or not.

But it knew Spirits who could.

Comfort made up its mind and stepped back into the Dreaming with The Infant held secure.

Comfort stared.

The Dreaming was _dancing_. And yes, it had done so before as well. But now...

Energies twirled and tangled and sparked and _sang_ , pulling and pushing, at it, at _everything_ , an ever fluid rhythm, dancing to the song of The Infant. Yet in a strange way, it was also _solid_. Comfort had never known the Dreaming could be solid.

But here it was, with the Dreaming dancing in such a wonderfully impossible way. Real and not, solid and fluid. Waking and Dreaming both.

Comfort looked down at The Infant again. At the Waking shining from the rivers of Dreaming flowing outwards from its skin. At the way the Dreaming embraced and rejected The Infant all at once. In the exact same way the Waking had done as well.

It truly was a curious thing, Comfort had never seen anything like it.

It was still in pain. That was the most important thing of all.

Shifting so it had a firmer grasp on The Infant, Comfort's new form oddly solid yet not, Comfort started its journey through a land that had turned unfamiliar. 

It would find a way to help The Infant, to make the pain go away.

For what was Comfort, if not the desire to soothe that which was hurt?


	2. Chapter 2

Fenris woke up surrounded by demons.

It took a moment to realize this. At first, he could not understand what he was seeing, could not believe it.

Because Fenris saw the dead.

Varric and Isabela, Sebastian and Donnic, Dagna and Merril and so many others.

Yet as his breath hitched, as the people arguing all fell silent and turned towards him, he realized what they truly were. For Varric was also a pillar of gold, Isabela was a cloud of shimmering red, Sebastian was a glowing blue light.

Demons. Demons, who dared take the the form of _his friends!_

Fenris snarled, reaching for his sword- and faltered, limbs utterly uncooperative, refusing to obey. For one single moment, confusion overwhelmed all else. Then he remembered.

Time travel. Which had turned him into an infant. Because _magic_.

Fenris was an infant surrounded by demons. How wonderful. He sneered towards the infinite fractals wearing Merrill's face, now leaning over him.

"Oh my, it really is quite loud. Yet it is also so silent! What a curious thing this is."

Fenris startled at hearing the demon speak in the blood mage's familiar cadence. Then he sneered even fiercer, glaring as he balled his hands into fists. He could not fight back. Not in a way that truly mattered. But if the demon reached for him, he would hit it with everything he had.

"Curiosity, do not stand so near. You are frightening it." the blue light masquerading as Sebastian chided in that smooth brogue, laying a hand on the other demon's shoulder and pulling it back.

"It is not frightened. It is _angry_ , full of hatred and _rage_ , full of the desire to destroy. It _despises_ us." the fire wearing the abomination's form sneered as it glared down at him. Fenris glared back, wanting to bare his teeth.

But of course, he did not have any. Because _magic_.

"He is afraid." That _voice_. Fenris horrified eyes snapped to the side, panic clawing at his mind- _NO_ impossible, he had killed him, cleaved him open, had seen the light fade from those eyes _this was impossible!_

Fenris saw Danarius.

"He fears us, wishes to destroy us so we will not destroy him first."

No, this could not be happening, _impossible_ , he had _killed_ him _Danarius was_ _ **dead!**_

It was not Danarius. It was shadows twisting out of sight. And it was masquerading as Danarius.

Fenris screamed, furiously trying to hit the demon, suddenly becoming aware of the blanket wrapped around him that kept him captive, fists wildly swinging around instead. And when he failed, his -fear- rage grew even stronger because how _dare_ the demon take _that form!_

"Well shit. Fear, I don't think you're going to be much help here."

Fenris kept glaring furiously at the demon, did not turn his head towards the thing wearing Varric's form, hatred clouding everything else. He wanted nothing more than to _rip the thing's heart out!_ -

The lyrium _roared_ , drowning out the startled screams around him, Fenris gasping for breath, drumming and -screams- singing shredding his mind and he could _feel_ , feel _everything_ , fear and rage, comfort and affection, hunger and curiosity and so much more and _none of those things were_ _**his!**_ -

The lyrium calmed down to the piercing whisper it had been before. Fenris could breathe again.

He shivered violently, ruthlessly trying to suppress the tears rising, cursing himself when he failed. Because obviously it was not enough that he was an infant, that his brands had turned traitor, that _the singing would not shut up!_ No, clearly Fenris was not allowed any control over his own reactions as well.

_Magic._

A touch on his arm -what is it, what, what, what?- made his moist eyes snap to the side, and as he blinked rapidly to clear his blurry sight, he saw a cloud of ever shifting paths masquerading as Dagna. And it was touching _his brands!_

"Curiosity!" the thing wearing Sebastian's face snapped with a frown, grasping the demon and pulling it away.

Fenris hated the gratitude it briefly felt towards it.

The demon wearing Dagna's face pouted.

"I just wanted to get a better look." it defiantly said.

"What did it feel like?" the thing masquerading as Merrill eagerly asked. It made the false Dagna brighten, giving the demon a wide smile.

Fenris wanted to decapitate it. Wanted to slaughter _all_ of them, because how _dare_ they take those forms, _his friends_ -

"It sings! It hums and drums and _feels_. And it's feeling so much! Much more than we can see. Like the People! Except also not, because it _sings_."

Fenris sneered at the eager expression on the demon's face -on _Dagna's_ -

Filthy demons.

The infinite fractals disguised as Merrill, turned towards the blue light masquerading as Sebastian with eager and pleading eyes -Merrill, the blood mage who had fought for _so long_ before-

"Can I touch it? Please Comfort, I will be very careful, I promise!"

"No. The pain it feels only grows when we touch it. Which means _no one_ will do so." the demon wearing Sebastian's form ordered firmly, glaring at all the demons around it. Especially at the two disguised as Merrill and Dagna. Once more, Fenris hated the fleeting gratitude it could not help but feel.

The fire pretending to be the abomination scoffed harshly and crossed its arms.

"It is not pain that grows. It is _rage_."

"I can see it is pain-"

"Well I can see it is rage, not-"

"He is hungry."

Fenris _flinched_ , horrified eyes snapping towards the side once more, away from the false abomination and Sebastian. And he looked at an endless abyss appearing as _Hadrianna_. Fenris barely kept himself from hyperventilating, could not stop the silent tears that escaped him.

This was his every nightmare come to life.

"He is so very hungry." the thing masquerading as _Hadrianna_ continued softly, eyes too intense, too _sharp_.

And as though that was a signal, his stomach let out a loud roar, hunger and thirst suddenly at the forefront of his mind. But Fenris immediately pushed it away. It did not matter. Not when surrounded by demons.

The abyss disguised as Hadrianna gave him an even sharper look, eyes gleaming with _interest_.

Fenris wanted to carve them out with a rusty spoon.

"Fascinating." it whispered. Fenris gave it his harshest sneer, ignoring the way he was still silently crying.

"No touching." the demon wearing Sebastian's form ordered firmly once again. And once again, Fenris hated the brief gratitude he felt towards it.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but touch is a very important desire of all People. You're not going to be able to help him without it." the shimmering red disguised as Isabela drawled with a too familiar smile -Isabela, who had gone down with her ship-

"Sure, instinctive needs and all that. But unwanted affection only makes everything worse. Right now, the best thing to do, is not to touch it." the pillar of gold in Varric's hape shot back with that crooked grin Fenris had missed _so much_ -

"Alright, I have decided on how to proceed with this very delicate case." a high voice cheerfully stated. Fenris turned his eyes to the side, towards the sound. As all the demons in front of him had done as well. But he could not find the source, only saw - _Danarius_ \- other demons, all looking down at something. And it made Fenris realize he was not only wrapped in a blanket and laying on something soft, but that he was also on a table. And whatever it was that had spoken, was smaller than the table.

The entire situation made his -panic- fury rise even higher.

"Everyone, I would ask that you please leave." the high voice merrily continued. All around, demons threw hesitant looks around. But then a few started leaving, either fading from sight, or moving towards a door. The one Fenris had barely realized was there on the edge of his vision.

He had not even taken the time to properly assess his surroundings beyond an instinctive scan.

But then, he was surrounded by _demons_. And that was not even mentioning that cursed _singing_ that _would not_ _ **stop!**_

Fenris was finding it very hard to think straight.

But as more and more demons left, clarity began to return slightly. For the first time, Fenris truly looked around the room. It was the hall of a manor, bright and clean, uncannily familiar. Above him, a large chandelier explained the brightness of the room, all candles lit. It was the only source of light, for the windows near the door were all obscured by curtains.

But as the demons continued leaving, either fading from view or slipping out the door, Fenris turned his full attention back to the few that still remained, tension -fear- pushing all else away once more.

Yet in a strange way, he was relieved. At least now he would no longer be forced to see the mockeries of -his _friends_ \- the people he had once known.

Finally, only the demon masquerading as Sebastian remained. It gave him a soft look, as Sebastian had always done when offering nothing but comfort, and how _dare_ it-

"I do not wish to leave." the thing defiling everything Sebastian had ever been said.

"It is not for long. Well, I do not think it will be for long at least. But I suppose if you are the only one, it will be alright if you stay. Please do not interrupt me though, I am about to have a Very Important conversation." the high voice coming from right beside him said. It made his every hackle rise, Fenris furiously trying to see what it was that was speaking. But the thing he was laying on was not only soft, it was preventing him from even rolling to the side.

Fenris could not even _roll to his side_.

The mockery of Sebastian nodded in agreement, taking a few steps to the side, no longer standing right in front of him.

And then, a plushy chair materialized right where it had been standing. Fenris sneered once more.

 _Magic_.

Then he blinked in confusion, peering a little closer. He recognized that chair. It was...

It was the chair Hawke - _Hawke_ \- had dragged over to his manor so very long ago. Because _if you're going to be squatting in a corpse filled manor, the least you should do, is do it in comfort. Clearly you've given up on the style part already._

The chair had been a monstrosity of fluffy cushions that swallowed any who sat down on it.

Fenris had adored it as he had but a handful of things. It had been painful to abandon it, in a way he had never realized possessions could hurt.

And now a _demon_ had recreated it. With _magic_.

As he heard footsteps moving beside him, Fenris craned his neck as far as he could, glaring even though he had not yet seen the demon.

But when the demon finally came into view, bewilderment -awe- made his glare falter. The demon was...

It was a sun. Bright and shining and so very warm.

And it was _huge_ , impossibly so, somehow larger than the room itself. Yet, it was not blinding, was such a gentle light, liquid sunshine, golden and vibrant. Laughter given life.

It was wearing the form of a small elven child. A child, with dark skin and black hair.

And as it turned towards him, Fenris saw that it was a child with chillingly familiar green eyes.

The demon hopped onto the chair. And was promptly swallowed up, short legs sticking out the sides, small hands playfully gripping its own feet, head peeking out between them. Then it gave him a wide, tooth gapped smile.

"Hello, I am Happiness. Who are you?"

Fenris glared at full force once more. A demon of _happiness_. Which had taken on _his_ form. As a _child_. How nice.

Even had he not been an infant, Fenris would have refused to speak. He knew how demons could twist every word.

"I do not believe it can talk." the mockery of Sebastian said softly.

"Hush Comfort. Very Important conversation, remember? You can ask later." the demon in the chair said without looking away from Fenris, still smiling, if no longer quite so widely.

Fenris gave it a sneer. It made the thing laugh merrily, sounding like bells chiming softly.

"Oh, but you are _very_ curious." it said with another bright smile, once more showing off the gap between its teeth to the fullest.

Fenris made sure it held its eyes. And then he spit harshly.

The result was slobber dripping down his chin, the effect completely ruined. And of course, the demon laughed again, this time throwing back its head, the sound loud and ringing with joy, the very air shimmering with light.

"If you do not wish to talk, I shall talk instead." it cheerfully stated, and immediately continued. "You were brought here by Comfort, because it hopes I will be able to help you. It does not like pain you see. Now, the good news is that I can help you! The bad news, is that this will take quite a long time."

Fenris _glared_ , attempting to remain in control of his pure -panic- _rage_. The demon would _help_ him. And it would take _a long time_ \- No, _no!_ He would not, would _never,_ return to being _a slave_. He was _free_ , had won his freedom with blood and tears and pain and _never_ would he let it be taken from him.

 _Never_.

The demon's smile turned small and soft, eyes shining and so very warm. An illusion of the highest degree.

"You do not need to fear me."

Fenris sneered. Already the thing was telling him what to _feel_. As though it had _the right_ -

"Though of course, that does not mean you will not fear me. That is actually one of many reasons why this entire thing will need so much time. But I am getting ahead of myself. First of all, is there anything at all you wish to ask?"

Fenris gave it a cold look. He knew this technique. Offer something the slave wants, then make it clear _their master_ was the only one who could provide it. And _the master_ would only provide it, if the slave _pleased_ him.

Even had he been able to speak, he would never have fallen for such an obvious trap.

The demon hummed pensively, still smiling softly. It tilted its head, a curious look on its face, its false appearance making the movement seem so purely innocent.

"The thing is, I cannot truly see what you wish to be happy. Oh, the general necessities are not a problem, you are screaming those. But the details are... oddly silent. I know they are there, but I cannot quite catch them. Everything would go a lot smoother if you told me what you wish for." Then the demon fell silent with an expectant look.

Fenris seriously considered spitting once more, but eventually decided he did not want more slobber down his chin. The effect was not the same.

So he settled for trying to light the thing on fire with his eyes.

"Alright, then I will start with the basics we shall need instead. Please tell me if you do not agree with anything."

So that it could deliberately include them? Fenris was no fool.

"Now then. First of all, you need food and water. After that, you will need a safe place, somewhere you do not feel in danger. But not one where you feel trapped either! That is _very_ important, you will never be truly happy if you feel trapped. So, these things are the most important of all. Do you agree?"

Fenris did not trust the demon in the slightest, nor its laughably ridiculous -dream- offer.

And now, what would it take in return?

"I warn you, if you do not agree, you must let me know. Perhaps by waving your hand once for yes, twice for no?"

Fenris did not move, kept glaring instead.

"No, truly, I can only see what you need, not what you want. This is a very delicate line, one that easily leads to sadness and pain. So please, do let me know if you do not agree."

Fenris still did not move, simply kept trying to make the thing burst into flames by glaring.

"Alright. So, food and water. That we can easily get from the Waking of course."

The Waking?

"But for a safe, and more importantly, _free_ place, it is much better to remain in the Dreaming-" Abruptly the demon fell silent, yet Fenris could barely focus on it.

Because when the demon had said the word _Dreaming_ , Fenris had heard another word, yet not. He had heard it.

The Fade. He was _in the Fade!_

But _of course_ he was, how could he have missed it? The too loud singing inside his head, the demon wearing familiar forms, the familiar room.

This room as what he imagined the hall in his manor would have looked like, had it not been ransacked, destroyed, and filled with rotting corpses.

Fenris was in the Fade. He was an infant. Who had traveled back in time. And he was _in the Fade._

Fenris hated the mage _so much_. He hated that he could not halt his renewed crying, the sobs wracking his body, hated the demons in front of him, hated _everything_ because he was an _infant_ , who was in _the Fade_ and he could not _think_ with that cursed -screams- _singing_ , with the drumming that was _his own heartbeat!_

Because he was alone.

Fenris _wailed_ , closing his eyes, crying and sobbing, he was _alone_ , everyone was _gone_ , was _dead_.

 _Everyone_.

"No Comfort. Let him cry."

"It is in pain!"

"Sometimes pain is necessary. Let him cry, let him hurt. Let him grieve. He will never be able to find happiness until he does."

Fenris barely heard the words, could not understand them, was once more helpless against all the _memories_.

Against the knowledge that he was all alone.

He was glad when he fell unconscious once more.

* * *

 

Happiness looked at the poor man as he fell in that strange slumber from before. It let out a sigh, feeling so much compassion for him.

He had not known lasting happiness in far too long. Happiness knew that this would not change soon either.

But one day, this man would know true happiness once more. Would find lasting happiness, even if only for the briefest of moments. Happiness would make sure of it.

It smiled. And then it shifted so it sank even deeper in the very nice chair it had manifested, delighting in the squishy softness all around it, the pleasure and comfort and sheer  _joy_ the chair was made of.

The very nice chair, which the man had chosen. As he had chosen the environment around him.

As he had chosen the form of Happiness.

Happiness released its grip on its own foot, and brought its hand towards itself, looking at it in fascination. It had never been quite this small, not like this. Not even in the earliest moments it could remember. It had also never been an almost true body. An almost solid form.

The man was  _very_ curious. He made the Dreaming dance, yet refused to let the Dreaming dance with him in return.

How odd.

How wonderful.

Happiness lowered its hand back down its own tiny foot, feeling the strange sensation of skin from both an inside and outside view. Then it looked towards Comfort as its worry grew, yearning so fiercely to go over and soothe.

Comfort was young. It had not yet learned that sometimes, comfort was not a blessing. Sometimes, comfort only hurt.

Happiness hoped that when it did, Comfort would survive. Hoped it would come out stronger, hoped it would not shatter.

Happiness hoped it would still be able to find happiness.

But Comfort did not yet need to learn this.

"We will have to gather food and water for him." it told Comfort, offering it a goal. Immediately Comfort turned towards it, pure joy rising at the knowledge it could lessen even the simplest of pains.

"I will go and retrieve some."

"Take Hunger with you, it will know what the man needs." Happiness said, knowing how easy it was to make mistakes with that. It knew the great differences food could have. Some food made People happy, some food hurt People.

Some of it made them _sad_.

Food was complicated, and Comfort would have trouble finding suitable sustenance on its own. But Hunger, by its very nature, would not make mistakes like that. 

"I will." Comfort agreed in that strange voice it now had. Also chosen by the man of course. "I will return soon. But until then, will you stay with it?" Comfort asked, worry rising once more, joy dampening slightly.

Happiness laughed, charmed by how much Comfort had already come to care for the man.

"Of course I will. I told you I would help, so I shall. I cannot do that if I am not present, now can I?" Happiness gently teased. And in return, Comfort brightened with joy, the form it almost was giving a wide smile.

"Thank you Happiness." And with that farewell, Comfort stepped sideways, disappearing from this layer of Dreaming. After it left, Happiness looked back towards the man. It smiled widely.

Happiness was _very_ happy. It had not been able to bring joy to one of the People in a long time.

Not since Glory had been taken. Not since Happiness had gone into hiding in the deepest parts of the Dreaming.

Happiness had not done so for itself. It had done so because so many Spirits had begged it. Because so many had been afraid. So many had been hurt.

Because so many were still grieving even now.

Happiness continued bringing joy to the Dreaming and Spirits of course, and it was truly happy with this. But there was something about bringing even the briefest of lasting joy to the People...

It was always so much harder, it was always a _struggle_. Happiness had missed the particular satisfaction it felt when it managed to accomplish this.

When it showed what happiness truly was.

So many believed Spirits of Happiness were fragile and fleeting. And many were, only existing for the briefest of moments, before turning to Despair, Sorrow, Loss.

But true happiness was not fragile. True happiness, was taking every hurt life threw at your, all the pain and loss, all the _sadness_.

And then you fought for happiness anyway. You kicked and screamed, grasped every bright moment in the darkness and held on tight. You _struggled_.

And because of that, you succeeded. Even if the moment was fleeting, even if it did not erase the hurt and loss. Even if it only added to that pain. Even if it was only found in the smallest of things.

True happiness could _always_ be found. 

Because happiness did not merely exist in the absence of loss and sorrow and despair. It existed alongside them. It existed because of them.

It existed in spite of them.

That was what Happiness was. Why it had had kept growing, why it had never shattered. Why it had never changed.

And now, Happiness would teach that to this man. No matter how long it took.

But first, it would ensure the man was fed, and given a safe, and more importantly, free place. Because while Happiness could not see the exact reasons, could not understand the why,  it did know what the man needed.

He needed freedom. He would never be able to find true happiness without it.

So for now, Happiness would let the man continue his strange slumber, would show it would not do anything without his permission. For now, Happiness decided to close its eyes.

It remembered Glory.

Happiness, was also remembering the bright moments that had been. Happiness, was knowing that the pain of their loss, did not diminish the joy those moments still were.

That was also something Happiness would teach the man. Even if it did not understand why, it was obvious that he had a great need for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were two Spirits of Curiosity here. And neither were the Curiosity from Feynite.


	3. Chapter 3

When Fenris woke up again, he was _exhausted_. And hungry. But even more importantly, he was thirsty.

Yet because he could not do anything about that, he ignored the clenching of his stomach, the scratchy dryness of his mouth, and opened his eyes instead. He immediately saw the two demons masquerading as Sebastian and the child.

"Welcome back." the disguised sun said with another bright, tooth gapped smile, still swallowed by the chair as it had been before. It was also still playing with its own feet.

Next to the chair stood the mockery of Sebastian, giving him a small smile, those blue eyes so very warm.

Fenris glared.

"We have brought you food. Would you like some?" the false child cheerfully asked. Fenris sneered. He did not want _anything_ the demon offered.

He would die if he did not accept.

No, he would not. Masters never let their slaves without their permission. "Accidents" might happen, but letting a new slave starve?

Fenris knew they would force him to eat.

"If you do not wish to, we will not force you." the false child gently said, making horror rise. Was it reading his mind?

"...Happiness, it will die if it does not eat." the defilement of Sebastian said with a falsely worried look.

"Then he will die. We will not take that choice from him. We will not take _any_ choice from him." the disguised sun said, never looking away from him, still smiling softly.

Fenris gave it a cold look. As though he would believe something so -wonderful- preposterous.

"So. One wave for yes, you wish to eat, two for no, you do not?" the false child asked. Fenris carefully lifted his hand. Then he waved twice.

He wished to end this farce, force the demon to show its true colors. He would call its bluff.

But instead, the demon nodded in agreement.

"Alright then. In that case, I will continue our Very Important conversation from before. Do you remember what we last talked about? The safe and free place you need?"

Fenris did not lift his arm again, simply glared. He hated how helpless he was.

"I shall take that as a yes. Now, as I said previously, the Dreaming is truly the best place for this. Not that you have to stay here of course, but it is the most suitable location for this purpose. If you go to the Waking, the People will find you, and they will never allow someone as small as you to make their own choices. Though if you wish, we shall take you there. Well, Comfort will. But if you do, I will no longer be able to help you. I have been avoiding the Waking for quite some time now."

Fenris... was finding it hard to understand all that. Not the false -dream- choices offered, but simply that entire explanation, the way it had been given. The things that had been said, and more importantly, what had not been said. The way it had spoken so freely of... _leaving_ the Fade.

For the first time, he wondered where- _when_ he had precisely arrived.

Except even had he wanted to, he could not ask the demons. Because he was an infant.

Magic.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud roar let out by his stomach. Immediately, the mockery took a step forward, false worry growing even stronger.

"Comfort, _no_." the disguised sun ordered firmly.

"Happiness, please. It is in so much pain." the mockery said, never looking away from Fenris.

Fenris sneered. Now the demon would show its true colors. Now it would take even this smallest of freedoms from him.

"But if you help him now, that pain will only grow." the thing masquerading as a child gently said. The mockery turned towards it with a small frown.

"No it would not. It's hunger would be soothed, that pain would be gone." the defilement said, sounding so achingly familiar, stubborn and righteous, and so determined to do _good_.

Fenris _hated_ it.

The defilement winced and looked back towards him, false worry growing even stronger.

"He would not be hungry anymore, that is true. But if you take that pain from him without permission, he will be hurt much worse in ways so much harder to soothe." the disguised sun said, giving the defilement a soft smile.

The defilement looked completely panicked.

"I- Happiness, what do I _do?_ " it frantically demanded, shifting its weight uncertainly, the movement so _familiar_ - _Sebastian_ -

Immediately the thing's eyes snapped towards him once more, appearing even more panicked. The false child let go of one foot and laid it's hand on the other demon. The mockery closed it's eyes. Then a small, so very content smile appeared. One Fenris had not seen Sebastian make in far too long.

He hated the thing _so much_ -Sebastian was _gone_ -

"I warned you this would not be easy. If you stay, you will experience much pain you will not be able to soothe. It is the only way to truly comfort him, no matter how much it seems it is not. But Comfort, you do not need to stay." the disguised sun said softly, unnerving green eyes illuminated from within.

The mockery opened it's eyes, looking towards Fenris with too familiar determination.

"I will stay. I will help." it stubbornly proclaimed, sounding _so much_ like Sebastian-

The mockery winced again.

"...But it will not _always_ be in pain. Will it?" it asked uncertainly.

"No Comfort. If he does not die, he will not. But he will be for some time." the false child gently said. The defilement grimaced slightly. Then it nodded once, resolute and stubborn and so achingly _familiar_.

The false child gave the mockery a bright smile, lifting its hand. Then it looked back towards Fenris.

"So. The Dreaming. And yes, I do know you do not like magic, even if I do not understand why."

What a brilliant understatement.

"But, well, magic is everywhere. I cannot help you escape it, not truly. But the Dreaming can give you a safe and free place, which is far more important than the absence of magic anyway."

The _Fade_ could offer _freedom_. Of course it could. Why, he would only be constantly surrounded by demons attempting to possess him.

Fenris sneered. And he pushed the panic the thing's words had inspired away -magic was _everywhere_ -

The disguised sun laughed loudly, literal sparks snapping at the air around it. Fenris sneered even fiercer.

"Oh, this will be _very_ difficult." it said, sounding positively delighted. How wonderful.

It gave him another huge, tooth gapped smile. Then it squirmed out of the chair and bend down, picking up something from the floor, just out of his sight. When the demon straightened, Fenris saw it was holding three small -relatively small at least- bottles. Bottles made of clear glass, topped with something squishy, and filled with... milk?

His stomach let out another roar. Fenris firmly ignored it, giving the thing a cold look instead. He knew it. They would force him to eat, fore him to live. They would take even that most basic of freedom from him.

The only one he still truly had.

The false child walked towards him, making his -fear- rage grow. It halted next to the table he was laying on, gone from his sight.

"Comfort, could you please pick me up?" it asked from beside him -too close!- making the mockery walk forward as well.

Fenris glared, his -panic- fury rising even higher.

The defilement halted net to the table, bend down, and lifted the false child, another small, purely content smile appearing as it did - _Sebastian_ -

The false child gave him a huge, tooth gapped smile. Then it bend forward, making the mockery quickly shift its grip so it would not let the false child fall. The disguised sun placed all three bottles right next to him, a look of concentration on its face, unnerving eyes flickering between the bottles and Fenris himself.

Fenris kept glaring.

The thing pushed the bottles a little closer still, before nodding in satisfaction. It leaned back in the defilement's embrace, tiny arms coming up to hug the mockery with another huge smile, making the defilement chuckle softly, the sound so painful to hear.

"Thank you Comfort. You can put me down now." the false child said, and immediately the mockery did so.

As Fenris saw the disguised sun move back towards the chair from the corner of his vision, he kept glaring up towards the defilement. The defilement gave him another falsely worried look - _Sebastian_ -

The mockery winced. It hesitated, shifting its weight, the movement so purely _Sebastian_.

Fenris gave the urge to spit at it some serious consideration, but finally decided it wasn't worth the certain failure. He also ignored the tears rising, only blinking rapidly to make sure the moisture didn't blur his vision.

The defilement shifted its weight once more. Then it sighed softly, the sound full of sorrow and pain - _Sebastian!_ \- and with another wince, it walked back towards its previous position. The false child was already back in the chair, swallowed by it once more. As Fenris met those unnerving green eyes, it smiled brightly once again. Did the thing ever stop smiling?

"Now you can eat yourself if you wish to." it cheerfully stated. Fenris gave it a cold look, ignoring the desperate urge to grasp one of the bottles and drink it dry.

The disguised sun's smile grew even wider, looking so deceptively innocent.

"Now, I have a very important question. I think I know the answer, but it must still be asked. Do you understand what you are doing to the Dreaming?" it asked. Fenris felt confused, but refused to show it. He did not wave his hand in answer.

But... _he_ was doing something to the Fade?

This had to be another trick. Fenris was no _mage_ , and even with the lyrium, he had never been able to manipulate the Fade.

The Fade was the domain of demons.

The false child gave him a pensive look.

"I think you do not. Not truly. Which is very strange, because I have never seen any shape the Dreaming as effortlessly as you do. And yet..." It fell silent, still looking pensive. Then it nodded decisively. "I shall explain, just to make sure you fully understand. You see, it is because you make the Dreaming dance, that this is the most suitable place for you. All that you see, except the food, was created by you." it said, waving an arm around to encompass the room as it did.

Fenris snorted derisively, and hated how it came out like a hiccup. Really though, he was supposed to believe that?

"You have even shaped the forms Comfort and I have taken." the thing continued cheerfully.

Fenris sneered. As if he would ever choose to have a _demon_ appear as Sebastian.

"You truly do not realize, do you?" the disguised sun asked with a curious look. When Fenris did not answer, it laughed brightly, feet wriggling in the air in time with the chiming of bells.

"Then I suppose I must state it in the clearest terms possible, this is _very_ important after all. This room, and all within it, is under your complete control. If you do not wish for us to be here, we will not be here. Nor will we be able to enter. Not unless you want us to." it lied with another wide smile.

But oh, Fenris _wanted_ to believe it. So much.

"This is why the Dreaming is the most suitable place for you. Here, you are free. Here, you can choose. Though... well, if you wish for food, that is slightly more problematic. Food created by the Dreaming will not sustain you, not when your body is here. But Comfort will always bring you more. Until you are able to get your own at the very least, if not longer."

Fenris glared even fiercer, cursing the tears that had risen once more, now dripping down his cheeks. The demon was offering an impossible dream. And it _hurt_.

"Why is the pain growing?" the mockery burst out, looking panicked once more. The false child turned towards it with a gentle smile.

"Why do you think it has?" it asked in return. The mockery gave him an uncertain look. Fenris gave it his best sneer.

"Because... Because it does not believe this is true?"

"Yes. But not simply because of that. Why else?" the false child asked. The defilement frowned slightly, sharp eyes aimed towards Fenris, so _familiar_ -

The defilement's expression turned to one of surprised realization.

"Oh. It _wants_ to believe this is true." it said. And it made the disguised sun beam. Literally, its dark skin now glowing, unnerving green eyes shining brightly, another huge smile appearing, its teeth actually sparkling.

"Very good Comfort."

"But why does it not believe the truth?" the mockery asked, sounding honestly confused. It was a truly excellent actor.

"That is an even more complicated answer. But currently, the why does not matter as much as the fact that he does not believe us. An until he does, we will not be able to help him." the false child said brightly. How nice to have them talking about him as though he was not here. As though he was a _slave_.

How nice to see them acting like _masters_.

"Then how can we make it believe the truth?" the defilement's falsely worried question made the disguised sun hum pensively, and look back towards Fenris with a soft smile.

"...I have an idea, though you will not like it Comfort. But please, do not interrupt me, no matter how much you wish to."

That one sentence made his fear rise sharply, throat too tight. What would the demon do?

The defilement hesitated, but then it nodded in agreement. And even though the false child had never looked away from Fenris, it's smile still grew wider.

Fenris was now completely panicked. The mockery winced. But it did not move.

The false child did. It squirmed out of the chair, holding his eyes the entire time.

"Tell me, do you wish for us to be here?"

 _No_.

The false child's ever present smile grew.

"Remember, you are in control. If you wish for us to return, we will. And we will bring food." it said gently, before immediately continuing in firm voice. "Do you wish for us to leave? For none to be able to enter without your permission? To be able to decide?"

 _Of course_ he did.

He couldn't.

The false child started moving forward. Fenris felt his pure -panic- rage rise even higher, growing with every step the false child took. Until it disappeared from his sight.

Until two tiny hand grasped the edge of the table.

Fenris desperately struggled with his choking fear as the thing climbed on the table, still _smiling_ , moving _closer_ , too close, _too close!_

"Do you wish for us to leave?" it asked as it crawled closer and closer and _closer!_

"Happiness, stop!" the mockery yelled, starting to move forward, but the false child, the _demon_ , kept _coming closer!_

"Do you wish us gone?" it asked and it was _lifting its hand_ , _it was going to touch him!_

And Fenris could not do _anything_ , fists uselessly waving around, _helpless_ , and the demon would _touch_ him- _**No**_ couldn't touch him, _couldn't_ , had to _fight_ , run _Fenris wanted the demon_ _ **GONE!**_ -

The lyrium _roared_ , Fenris screaming-

The demon was gone. His brands calmed. And the demon was gone. So was the mockery.

Fenris hiccupped, eyes frantically darting around. But they... they were truly gone.

They were _gone_.

Fenris burst out crying, closing his eyes, relief overwhelming all else, didn't care he could not control his reaction because _they were gone_.

Fenris felt as though for the first time since he had arrived, he could finally _breathe_.

He did not know how long he kept crying, everything too much once more, rage, fear, sorrow, pain, and above all else, _relief_.

But eventually, his tears died down, and he found the strength to open his eyes again. Immediately, without his consent, his vision fell on the bottles standing right next to him, all within easy reach. As his stomach let out another roar, Fenris gave them a wary look, blinking rapidly to get rid of the final tears blurring his vision.

This was food. Brought by demons.

This had to be a trap.

But he was so _hungry_. And now that the demons were gone -they were _gone_ \- the urge to drain the bottles dry was near impossible to resist.

It was another humiliation forced on him by his body. Fenris had known hunger before, had known starvation. Yet, even though he had experienced far worse than this, he had to use every ounce of willpower to make sure he didn't grasp a bottle. Because this was most certainly a trap.

But if he did not eat, he would die.

...Would that be so bad?

Fenris was... so very _tired_. His world had been destroyed. He was the only one left.

What was there to live for?

And yet...

And yet, Fenris...

Fenris wanted to live. He always had. Even when he had not been able to find a reason for it.

So Fenris reached to the side, carefully grasped one bottle with both hands. Then, with an enormous effort, he managed to lay it on his chest. After that, he had to take a moment to catch his breath, arms trembling as he made sure the bottle didn't fall off him. When he felt confident enough his body would not betray him, Fenris carefully pushed the bottle a little higher, until the squishy thing was right against his lips. The squishy thing, with a tiny hole in the middle of the jutting top.

Taking a few deep breaths, Fenris closed his lips around the squishy top. Then, with another enormous effort, he lifted the bottle and sucked.

 _Bliss_ , his eyes closing, sweet, cool liquid dousing his parched throat, smoothly gliding down his throat.

Fenris devoured the entire thing in no time at all, drinking until there was not a drop left. After that, he simply let go of the bottle, only making sure it rolled off him to the opposite side from where the other bottles stood. It fell from the table, Fenris hearing it hit the ground, though it did not shatter.

He did not care about that, more concerned with the way he could not seem to hold his eyes open. Again. Because he was an infant.

Magic.

So with his hunger sated, and with that cursed -screaming- singing still sounding in time with his wrong heartbeat, Fenris felt sleep drag him down once more.

His last thought, was the _desperate_ wish that the demons would not return while he slept.

* * *

Happiness was very pleased with itself. It had managed to give the man what he needed to start finding happiness!

Well, the man had done so himself. But Happiness had helped! 

This was the first step towards true happiness. Happiness only hoped the man would not die in the process. The People sometimes did that.

Unfortunately, Comfort was having much more trouble with this, full of confusion and panic, its identity twisting and starting to change. So Happiness spread out to entangle with it, both their forms no longer confined to being almost solid. This was not a true solution of course, but it was enough to give Comfort an anchor, its being no longer stretched to the point of shattering.

Comfort should not yet have to learn that sometimes, comfort only hurt. But by remaining with the man, Comfort had learned this. And even though Happiness had warned it of the risks, Comfort had decided to stay.

So Happiness would make sure Comfort would also still be able to find happiness. No matter what it might become.

As Comfort felt this, it started twisting erratically once more. But not so much it was in immediate danger of shattering, Happiness still providing an anchor. And as Comfort managed to keep itself whole, it grew angry. And betrayed.

 _You hurt it. You said you would help, but you_ _**hurt** _ _it._

The sensations and memories forming the accusation, did not make Happiness feel guilt. Why should it? It was helping the man find happiness.

 _You_ _**hurt** _ _it!_

Comfort's thoughts were chaotic and messy -it was _hurt_ , the pain had grown, Comfort had _failed_ , Happiness had hurt it and _Comfort had failed_ , had not lessened the pain, had not brought _comfort_ but if Comfort was not comfort than _**what was it**_ -

 _You have not failed_ Happiness send towards it, showing Comfort memories of other People who had been hurt as the man had been hurt. People, who had first needed to feel more pain, before it could lessen. Before they could find happiness. People, who had eventually no longer been in pain.

Well. Not as much pain.

Comfort's being wavered once more - _failed_ , made the pain _grow_ , _everything_ it had tried had _failed_ _ **it had not brought comfort!**_ -

 _Yes you have. Even though you cannot see the man right now, you have lessened his pain. You have succeeded_ Happiness told it, once more showing memories of other People, who had been like the man. Whose pain had always lessened by actions such as this.

The People Happiness had enjoyed bringing true happiness most of all.

For one long moment, Comfort remained on the edge of losing itself. But then, cautious joy began to rise, identity becoming a little more certain.

 _I have not failed?_ it tentatively send, memories of the man's growing pain fearfully accompanying the thought. Along with cautious hope and joy that maybe it had not failed. Maybe Comfort had helped, had lessened the pain. Even if it did not understand how.

 _Yes, you did. You have helped the man_ Happiness told it truthfully, sending Comfort its own complete view of the man, the reason why Happiness knew Comfort had managed to soothe some of his pain.

Comfort could not fully understand this view of course, for comfort and happiness, while similar in some ways, were very different in others.

Happiness did not need the absence of pain. Did not even truly need it to lessen, though true happiness often did cause this as well.

But Happiness was old. It had learned much about happiness, what caused it, what could lead to it's absence. Happiness understood pain. Enough so that it could help make Comfort understand as well. Make it understand that the man's pain had lessened by the absence of Comfort. That it had brought comfort by not being there.

And while Happiness could sense Comfort struggle with this new understanding of what it was, still teetering on the edge of change by this seeming contradiction of its very nature, it could sense the joy this inspired as well. The happiness.

Happiness felt confident Comfort no longer needed its help to find happiness and gently disentangled itself from Comfot. It sensed Comfort still struggling to adjust, still straddling the edge of change, but still remaining happy as well. So Happiness looked towards the strange, near solid thing floating in the middle of the Dreaming. It saw the way the Dreaming was subtly altered as it danced around and through it, the Dreaming becoming just a touch more solid as it did, unending currents carrying that subtle shift further away from the thing.

The thing. The near solid room that did not shift or change, that did not allow the Dreaming to dance with it. The room none could enter but the man. Not unless he willed it. And...

Happiness saw with joyful surprise just how many Spirits were wandering around the thing. Spirits of Rage, Fear, Curiosity, Sorrow, Pride, Compassion, Love, Hope, and so many more. There was even a rare Spirit of Freedom.

Happiness was _delighted_ , feeling the Dreaming reflect this, its being spreading out, the immediate effect on all Spirits present, the rising _joy_.

It made Happiness even happier. Because while Happiness was perfectly happy with the necessity of spending all its time with the man for the foreseeable future, it would have missed bringing joy to others as well. But if so many Spirits would keep coming to this hidden part of the Dreaming, it meant Happiness could continue bringing joy to them as well! It could bring happiness to Spirits _and_ to one of the People!

Happiness had not been this happy in a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> My [tumblr](https://loekas.tumblr.com/)


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